


Standing Still

by GoldenEyedFury



Series: Far Away Truths [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, F/M, Godric's Hollow, Horcrux Hunting, I tried to hit you with feels but idk if that worked, Not Beta Read: We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 04:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16779181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenEyedFury/pseuds/GoldenEyedFury
Summary: Harry stutters a sigh, “Hermione.” he begins and she brushes the hair out of his eyes, leaving him breathless.“Don’t ever let me cut your hair again.”Harry nods swallowing around a lump in his throat. He places his hand over hers and squeezes it twice, gently. Not yet able to voice how he feels.Written for Harmony & Co's (18+) Christmas Advent.Merry Christmas!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Prowler Christmas tale. You don't need to read Prowler in order to enjoy this work. Just know that Harry and Hermione are raising Teddy and let everything else fall into place.  
> ___  
> I used a few(Several) lines from the movie for this work in order to set up the scene and keep it fairly close to canon.

“Once upon a time…” Hermione began as she sat next to the Christmas tree. Legs crossed beneath her, with Teddy in her lap chewing a teether toy and growling a bit.

“You aren’t seriously going to  _ ‘Once Upon a time,’ _ it are you? Because we lived this and Teddy doesn’t need to think its a story.” 

“Harry, love.Teddy is 8 almost 9 months old. He isn’t going to remember this, or anything we tell him tonight. But he is still a baby, advanced for his age yes, but a baby nonetheless. No need to scare the poor lad.” Hermione patted Harry’s shoulder and smiled, “Besides its the story of us, and frankly I love how we got together.”

Harry nodded but scowled a bit, “It’s just do we start at the beginning? With the troll?” 

Hermione raised an eyebrow in return, “I was thinking we’d start with how we got engaged and go from there. After all it is Christmas Eve.” 

~oOo~

“Hermione, I’ve been thinking,” Harry navigated slowly across the clifftop, careful not to slip, “I want to go to Godric’s Hollow. Its where i was born, its where my parents died.” He taps each point on his palm, shoulders hunched against the chilly breeze as he sits next to Hermione.

“That’s exactly where he’ll expect you to go. Because it means something to you.” She slams her book shut and stands, looking down at him uncertainty creasing her brow. 

“Yeah but it means something to him too Hermione! You-know-who almost died there.” Harry scrambles to his feet, “Isn’t that the type of place he’d hide a horcrux?!”

“I-it's dangerous Harry!” She turns away unable to bare the hope welling in his face. “But even I have to admit I’ve been thinking we’ll have to go there.” Hermione starts to walk back to the tent, book tucked close to her chest and watching her step carefully. 

Harry pumps both fists triumphantly behind her back, a quick motion easily hidden if needed. She doesn’t turn around and he falls behind. 

“I think it's possible something else is hidden there.”

“What?” He snaps the question, hurrying to to catch up while not losing a shoe or foot to the craigs begging to snap an ankle. Hermione stops and twists to face him fully; placing a hand on his shoulder.

“The Sword. If Dumbledore wanted you to find it but didn’t want it to fall into Ministry hands, where better to hide it than the birthplace of the Founder of Gryffindor?”

Harry stutters a sigh, “Hermione.” he begins and she brushes the hair out of his eyes, leaving him breathless.

“Don’t ever let me cut your hair again.”

Harry nods swallowing around a lump in his throat. He places his hand over hers and squeezes it twice, gently. Not yet able to voice how he feels.

~oOo~


	2. Chapter 2

Coat over his knees Harry sits at the table across from Hermione. She’s shoulder deep into the beaded bag, he wonders if she’d fall in if he shoved her. Chuckling a bit to himself he asks instead, “Should we-I mean do you you think we should leave now?” 

“No, we should wait until later.” She withdraws entirely from the bag and waves her wand at it threateningly, “ Easier to blend in if we wait until after dark. Accio Flasks!”

Hermione catches the first clear potion flask that pops out of the bag like a spring daisy. Silently she directs the second to the table top. Flask after flask flies out of the bag and lands in a line, as they land she sorts them by date and type. Pepper up, Nutrition, Burn paste, Dittany, Polyjuice. Empty flasks are sent into an open chest. Tinkle-thudding their way across the table. Tipping from side to side as if walking. 

Harry grins and watches them march to their storage. He’d been dreading their earlier conversation so much the lack of its weight makes him giddy; he laughs for the first time in what seems like forever. 

Startled Hermione joins him. Her laughter feels like sobs but with every jolt of her ribs she feels lighter, freer. They’re teenagers again.

Reaching over the flasks she takes Harry’s hand. Still giggling she meets his impossibly green eyes and squeezes twice. He returns the gesture, cheeks tinged pink. 

~oOo~

They apparate into an empty street at the tail end of a snowstorm. Christmas lights glitter and shine cheerfully. 

“I still think we should have used polyjuice.” Hermione loops her arm through Harry’s as they look around. 

“No.” His voice deepens a tad, “This is where i was born, i’m not returning as someone else.”

Laughter erupts behind them and they spin, wands in hand. A man stumbles out a pub, warm light spilling into the street, wishing his mates a goodnight. Crisis averted their shoulders ease. They turn back to the street but don’t resheath their wands. 

“Harry,” Hermione says, shocked. “I think it's Christmas Eve. Listen.” 

Faint singing echoes from a Church, an ode to a Holy Night. Harry stops at the steps. He doesn’t tell her how fitting it is that his first time spending Christmas with his parents is during what may be his last Christmas. She can read it on his face. 

Instead he asks, “Do you think they’d be in there?” He points his chin toward the cemetery, “My mum and dad?”

Hermione's heart breaks. Every year Christmas Eve was spent playing board games with her parents until Mass. It was the only time they ever went to Church, but it was their tradition and Hermione wouldn’t have changed it for the world. But Harry would never know if his family had any traditions, or even what they were truly like. 

“Yeah,” She turns to him. Holding his arm tightly. “Yeah they should.”

~oOo~


	3. Chapter 3

The kissing gate is freezing in his hands, skin melding to the iron and threatening to tear. A path winds through the cemetery, untouched snow shimmering under the streetlamps. His feet are rooted to the spot but his heart is pulling him forward. Somewhere in the maze of tombstones are his parents. 

“Hermione, before we go in I-” He pulls her into a hug, “I want you to know that I couldn’t do this. Any of this…” He waves toward the cemetery and the world around them. “Without you. Promise me that you’ll always be here with me. Beside me. For the rest of our lives. I don’t want to spend a single day without you. Please, Stay with me?” 

Magic swirled, kicking up snowflakes. Neither of them noticed. Harry let her go and took a step back, sinking down to one knee. Hermione gasped, hands flying to her face and covering her mouth. Tears brimming in her dark eyes.

“ I don’t have a ring, and we haven’t been a couple for very long. But I love you Hermione. I’ve been in love with you since third year and can’t imagine a moment without you. Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Harry. A thousand times yes!” She whispered dropping to her knees and tackling him in a hug. “I Promise to always be with you.”

Deep within Gringotts the Potter vault stirred. Torches flared to life, dust was whisked away and a long forgotten quill stood up. Trimming its end, the quill shook itself, setting its blood red feather to rights. A book lay open beside it, lists of names and dates spread across its pages. The quill dipped itself into golden ink and wrote: December 24th 1997 Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger have entered a magical engagement. May their love be everlasting.

Singing fades as they step through the gate. Only the crunch of snow beneath his feet breaks the heavy silence. Trailing his fingers across the nearest headstone he searches for his parents.

_ The last enemy that shall be defeated is Death. _

Harry stands before the grave unable to speak. He can barely breathe. The cold seeping through his trainers. He doesn’t care. It's the first time he’s been here but he hopes it won't be the last. 

Hermione conjures a small wreath and leans it against the marble. She wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and leans her head on his shoulder. 

“Happy Christmas Hermione,” Harry sniffs and wipes his eyes and cheek with one hand and loops his opposite arm around Hermione's shoulders. 

“Happy Christmas Harry.”

~oOo~


End file.
